A Pirate's Ransom

by Gerri Brousseau

  I was beginning to lose my patience. “What do you know of this?”

  “Nothin’, Miss. I don’t be knowin’ nothin’. I swear it.” But she wrung her hands, and I knew she was hiding something.

  My eyes narrowed. “Mary,” I said in a warning tone, “I want the truth.”

  “I ain’t got nothin’ more to say on the subject.”

  “Very well, Mary, then please get Tobias in here with the trunks.”

  “Aye, Miss,” she replied and hurried out of the room.

  Perhaps Tobias would have something to say about the specter that had visited my bedchamber in the night.

  Tobias appeared at my door with his cap in his hand and per his usual, danced from one foot to the other.

  “Me Lady?”

  “Tobias, would you please bring my trunks in here so that we can start packing my things.”

  “Pack yer things, me Lady?”

  “Yes. With the Duke having passed on, there will be no wedding. We cannot remain here on his charity or that of the Marquis.”

  “Well, me Lady, don’t be hasty now. I be o’ the mind the Marquis would be wantin’ ye to remain here.”

  “Really? And are you acquainted with the Marquis?”

  He danced again before me, then answered, “Me Lady, ye can’t be leavin’. Do ye forget yer father be arrivin’ in the mornin’?”

  “Oh my, yes, you are right, Tobias. I had completely forgotten the Duke had sent for my father for the wedding.”

  “Aye, so there be no sense in preparin’ to be leavin’ just yet. Besides that, I have a matter o’ great importance to see to tomorrow.” He frowned and I wondered if he had let slip some tidbit of information he had meant to keep secret.

  “And what might that be, Mister Smith?”

  “Well, I-I must accompany the Captain, that is, the Lieutenant as it be, to the ceremony.”

  “Ceremony?”

  “Aye, me Lady.” He turned to leave the room.

  “What ceremony, Mister Smith?”

  Facing me once again, he answered, “That be the ceremony namin’ the Marquis as the new Duke a Devonshire.”

  “I see. And who will be fetching my father at the docks?”

  “Well, the Duke’s son. He made all the arrangements. Ye need not worry.”

  “Mister Smith, does the Duke’s son have a name?”

  “Aye, me Lady, the Marquis a Hartington,” he said and turned once more to leave the room.

  “Mister Smith!” I nearly shrieked. “Where are you going now?”

  “I have to get a move on. I be runnin’ behind me time.”

  He tugged his old, red cap down over his shaggy gray hair and scurried from the room.

  I nearly screamed. That man was trying my patience.

  The next morning, after another night of taunting dreams and tossing and turning in sleep tormented by memories of Edmund, I made my way down to breakfast. I was surprised to see Mister Smith, standing in the hallway, hair cut and neatly combed, clean shaven, and dressed in a fine dark coat and matching trousers. He wore a clean white shirt with a neatly tied cravat and even his dark boots shown with the sparkle of a fresh shine. Mary was using a brush to be certain his coat held not a speck of lint.

  “My, my, Tobias Smith. You are the picture of a gentleman dressed in your finery.”

  “Thank ye, me Lady.” He adjusted his coat and, clearing his throat, he said, “I be pleased to make yer acquaintance.”

  “Very good, Mister Smith. Very good.”

  We laughed together just as we had that day on the ship.

  I burned with the need to question the wiry little man, yet seeing the gleam in Mary’s eyes as she tended to him, I thought better of it. I will question him at length upon his return, I thought as I made my way to the table.

  But my day proved to be so full of activity with Father’s arrival that thoughts of interrogating Tobias Smith completely slipped my mind.

  I wanted to look just right for my father’s arrival, not impoverished as we were on the island, but not dressed in an exquisite gown either. I selected a simple gown of dusty rose that had a modest neckline and long sleeves.

  Father arrived in the early afternoon. We had parted under tenuous circumstances and my stomach danced with a case of the jitters as the coach drew up to the house. So not to appear to be over anxious, I hurried into the drawing room and, taking up my needlework, began to hum the tune of a song the pirates sang while they worked. I heard the commotion of the arriving coach, but I allowed James to get the door and show Father in.

  I grew silent at the sound of the front door opening and that of James’s deep voice greeting my father. I squeezed the needle tightly between my fingers, and my heart beat in my ears, keeping time with the ticking clock that sat on the mantel.

  “Welcome to Hartington House, Milord, Milady.”

  Milady? What? I mindlessly drove the tip of the needle into my finger. Who on earth had father gotten entangled with since I was taken from The Tempest?

  “Lady Catherine is expecting you,” James said. “She awaits you in the drawing room. Allow me to take your wraps.” After a brief moment, he continued, “If you would kindly step this way.”

  The crisp rustle of skirts and staccato heels sounded. The footsteps moved closer to the drawing room, and my stomach tightened. Not quite knowing what to expect, I rose from my chair to greet my father and the woman who had accompanied him. As they entered, my mouth dropped opened.

  “Bella mio, my little’a stick, I’m so happy to see you.” The Contessa’s musical voice filled the room.

  “Contessa? I never expected to see you again. I couldn’t be happier to discover you are alive and well, and here in London.”

  “Si, it’s all because of you Captaino Drake. He rescued me.”

  She spread her arms open and I rushed into her embrace. We stood together for a moment, both laughing and crying. Father remained silent as he waited patiently and watched the emotional reunion. Finally he said, “Catherine.”

  I turned to face him. He stood there in his brown tweed traveling clothes looking tired and for the first time I had to admit he was starting to look his age. Our eyes met and in that moment I relieved all the hurt he had caused, all the times he had made me feel unimportant and like I was a burden to him. The sting of his cowardice on the day I was captured opened a new wound in my heart. Tears stung my eyes and I realized my hands were balled into fists at my side as I fought for control. Part of me wanted to kiss him and finally be accepted for who I was, and part of me wanted to kill him for always making me feel inadequate and unloved.

  “Come in, come in. Please allow me to have some tea brought in.” My voice sounded cold and indifferent.

  James, who had been standing in the doorway simply nodded and slipped away.

  “How was your journey?” I asked.

  “Long,” my father answered. “Truth be told, the seas are a bit rough this time of year, and I spent much of the trip feeling rather indisposed.”

  “Father, I thought I would never see you again,”

  Why not cut right to the chase and have it out with him now?

  “Catherine, I can’t tell you how sorry I am.”

  “Sorry?”

  “Yes, for that day on The Tempest. I should have rallied the crew and tried to do something to save you, yet I was a coward and did nothing.”

  “Yes, you were.”

  “I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me, and then perhaps one day I shall be able to forgive myself.”

  Tears streamed down my cheeks. “It’s not just that day, Father. You have mistreated me my entire life. You have made me feel as if I am nothing to you but a burden.”

  “I’m sorry.” Tears pooled in his eyes. “Looking back now I think it was my way of dealing with your mother’s death and I’m so sorry. I love you, Catherine. Please, can you forgive an old fool and let us start anew?”

  Then my father opened his arms and all my mi
sgivings and trepidation melted away. I rushed into his embrace.

  He planted soft kisses upon my hair, and I burst into tears, releasing all the emotions I didn’t even realize I had been holding back all this time. We cried together and when I glanced at the Contessa, I saw that she, too, had shed a few tears. When I was finally able to gain a measure of control, I said, “I’m so sorry to have to tell you this, Father, but I believe you have made the arduous journey for naught.”

  “For naught? You consider the wedding of my daughter to be naught?”

  “That’s just it, Father. There isn’t going to be a wedding.”

  “No wedding?”

  “Father, there is something I must tell you.”

  “What is it, my dear? What has happened?” A shiver rushed over him.

  “Oh, where are my manners? You’re cold. Please come, sit and warm yourselves by the fire.” Flustered, I ushered them further into the room.

  “I must admit, I have forgotten how cold it can be here in London. This frigid, damp climate can chill a man to the marrow,” Father commented as he drew closer to the fire burning in the grate.

  “Now, what is it you wish to tell me, Catherine?” he asked.

  “Father, it’s the Duke.”

  “What about him? Has he tried to renege on his marriage contract?”

  “No, Father. It’s .. well ... he ... well ...”

  “Spit it out, girl.”

  “I don’t know quite how to tell you, but the Duke has died.” Despite myself, my lip quivered.

  “Madonna mio! Morto!” The Contessa clasped her hands to her ample bosom.

  “When? How did it happen?” Father asked.

  “He passed in the middle of the night, in his sleep. His funeral was yesterday and Father, I have to tell you, he was a very old man.”

  “Surely you exaggerate. At your tender age you think me a very old man.”

  “No, Father, he was quite up in years.”

  “How old of a man was he?” he asked with a raised brow.

  “He looked to be older than your father, or even his father before him. He was in a wheel chair and wheezed as he breathed. A very frail man who took to fits of coughing, and on more than one occasion I feared he would succumb to death before my very eyes.”

  “I knew he was somewhat older, but I had no idea. I’m sorry, Catherine.”

  “But he was very kind to me, as his son, the Marquis, has been. This lovely home is his son’s residence, but now that the wedding will no longer occur, we should probably make arrangements to return to our home on the island.”

  “Please, believe me, daughter, I had no idea the Duke was so on in years when I accepted his proposal.”

  “I’m sure you didn’t. At any rate, as I said, I fear you have traveled a very long way for naught.”

  Just then, Mary arrived pushing a cart holding the tea service, James following closely behind her.

  “Milord,” James said to my father, “this message has just been delivered for you.”

  “For me? But who on earth even knows I’m here?”

  The cream-colored envelope had a rich look to it and was closed with a wax seal bearing the crest of the Duke of Devonshire. Tearing open the seal and removing the thin slip of paper from the envelope, Father’s eyes flew over the note.

  He slid his watch from the pocket in his vest and a frown crossed his brow.

  “What is it, Father?”

  “A request from the Marquis, the heir apparent as it were, to meet with him this afternoon. His note says there is a matter of urgency and great importance he wishes to discuss with me.”

  “I suspect he will be asking us to depart and leave him to his residence,” I said as nerves jumped in my stomach.

  “There is no way to know that for certain until I meet with him.”

  “What time is the meeting, Father?

  “In less than an hour’s time. His note says he will be sending a coach, so if someone would kindly show me to my room, I best refresh my appearance and change my clothes.”

  “Yes, yes, of course, James will show you to your room. And, Father, I’m so sorry.”

  “What have you to be sorry for, daughter?”

  “That your plans seemed to have been muddled from the start.”

  “Do not fret, my dear. Allow me to meet with the Marquis and see what matter he thinks to be so urgent and important. We shall have plenty of time to fret after that. In the meantime, why don’t you have tea and reacquaint yourself with the Contessa.”

  “Si,” the Contessa said with a welcoming smile, “come, sit with me and tell me about this place you call London.”

  Father returned just before dinner. Although I was anxious, I allowed him time to get settled in and relax before getting into the details of his meeting with the Marquis, who by now had surely been named the new Duke of Devonshire.

  I stood before the fireplace in the drawing room gazing into the flames, my mind churning with thoughts of what would become of me, of all of us. I jumped when I felt my father’s hand upon my shoulder.

  “Catherine, you seem troubled beyond your years,” he said.

  “Things have become such a mess.” I turned and fell into my father’s embrace.

  “Father, I was beside myself with worry for you the day I was taken from The Tempest. How long were you stranded upon the disabled ship before being rescued?”

  “As it so happened, we were only there a mere matter of hours. Apparently Captain Drake had previously arranged for our rescue.”

  “Captain Drake seems to have had his plan very well laid out.”

  “You have no idea,” he muttered under his breath.

  “Nothing has turned out as we had thought it would. Whatever will become of us now?”

  “Do not fret, my dear. Things have a way of turning themselves around.” He patted my shoulder in an attempt to comfort me.

  I sighed heavily. “Will we have enough coin to book passage to return to our home on the island?”

  “There will be no need of that.” He smiled down at me.

  “No? Has the new Duke of Devonshire given permission for us to stay here on his good graces? I do not wish to be considered a charity.”

  “No, no, my dear. It is nothing of the kind. You see, the Duke of Devonshire wishes to honor his father’s marriage contract.”

  “What?” I asked in disbelief.

  “He has asked for my permission to marry you in his father’s stead. And I have agreed. We are to leave for his estate in Devon in the morning.”

  Chapter 35

  We were to be married in the chapel on the grounds at the Duke’s estate in Devon. The coach rambled along the snow-covered roadway and gazing out of the window at the frozen countryside, my heart seemed just as cold. How could I be a wife to a man I have never met, especially when my heart belonged to Edmund. I looked at my father sitting across from me. He was smiling and seemed so happy. I knew this match was the only way we would survive financially, yet I couldn’t help but wonder if I was the only one unhappy about it?

  “You look so sad, my dear,” he said, placing his hand upon mine. I couldn’t bring myself to tell my father of my feelings for Edmund.

  “Father, it’s just ... well, things have happened so quickly. The tongues of the gossips will surely be wagging now. Wentworth Simmons is not even cold in the grave, and I am to be married to his son.”

  “When have you ever given a care to what the gossips have to say?”

  “This is certain to bring a dark cloud to my new husband’s reputation.”

  “I sincerely doubt he gives a care to that.”

  “It’s more than that, Father.”

  “What troubles you, Catherine?”

  “I don’t know him. The Duke. When I was to be married to the old Duke, I had months to come to terms with it and had the opportunity to become acquainted with him. Now, I’m to be a wife in a matter of one day. Married to a man I have never met, never seen. Father, I do no
t even know his name.”

  “Now, now, Catherine. Calm yourself and lay your fears to rest.” He patted my hand.

  Silence filled the coach for a few moments, and then I asked nervously, “What is he like, Father?”

  “Who, my dear?”

  “Why, the Duke, of course?”

  “He is young, a fine-looking gentleman. Trust me, my dear, you will be pleasantly surprised.” He smiled, then under his breath, he muttered, “I know I was.”

  Then he turned and struck up a conversation with the Contessa in whispered tones.

  The coaches drew up to the Duke’s estate, a large stately home that seemed to have been connected to an old keep. The tall stone turret and hall were not only intact, but judging from the smoke that curled from the many chimneys, appeared to be in fine working order and still in use.

  Our trunks were delivered to our rooms and we were given ample time to relax and to unpack our things before dinner.

  My room was decorated in much the same fashion as the room in the London residence. Mary immediately saw to the unpacking of my things. And although I was surrounded by so much activity, I felt isolated and as if I was merely going through motions. I was filled with a sadness I could not overcome. Edmund occupied my every thought. How could I possibly marry someone, a young man I had never met, when my heart belonged to Edmund?

  The Duke was notably absent at dinner, which only added to my rattling nerves. I was to be married in the morning to a man who had not even seen fit to present himself for the briefest of introductions before making me his bride and taking me to his bed. The thought of our wedding night brought on another worry in and of itself. Fooling an old man into believing I was still an untouched maiden was one thing, but attempting to fool a young man was entirely another matter. I’m certain the young Duke would expect me to be virtuous, as did his father. What on earth was I going to do?

  I feared I would not be able to go through with it. I stole a glance toward my father. I knew he counted on me to honor his word and rescue us from financial ruin. Perhaps it was expected that I would be a wife in name only. What if the young Duke never takes me to his bed, and I find I am with child from my encounter with Edmund at the celebration? Thoughts swirled around in my mind, and a knot of nerves churned in my stomach. I slid my untouched dinner plate aside.